Riptide (Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances Book 2)

by Michelle Mankin

  The joy in her expression crushed my little dream to dust. She ran to Patch, and he jogged up the beach toward her. Colliding on the stairs, he picked her up and swung her around in a circle. The sound of her joyous laughter carried to where I stood. Patch lifted her high above his shoulders and she gazed down at him oblivious to everything and everyone else. As he slowly loosened his hold letting his angel slide to earth, she reached for his face and framed it in her hands.

  I turned away the moment their mouths came together. Shoulders hunched to my ears, I headed the other direction alone. I knew she would say yes when he went down on one knee, offering her the ring he had picked up in a Vegas pawn shop when the tour had stopped there. I also knew I would stand by his side at the ceremony when they made it official.

  For the moment, I had a vague plan about getting drunk off of my ass and picking up the first chick that took notice of me at the Deck Bar. Maybe I could find a passable one with blonde hair and sun kissed skin.

  The idea did not enthuse me.

  * * *

  Karen

  August 2001

  “They’ll show up, honey,” Simone said as I peered out the camper wagon window again.

  “I don’t think so.” My throat was so tight I could barely swallow. I had been holding my tears at bay for the past hour while she had arranged my hair.

  “Don’t cry.” Simone turned me around. “You’ll mess up your makeup.”

  “I’m not wearing any. Dominic prefers me without it.”

  “I know, but I got your mind off of the window for a moment.” She offered me an encouraging smile. “Now let’s have a look at you.” She squeezed my hand, leaned back and studied me. “The baby’s breath and the tiny white rosebuds are gorgeous with your hair curled and loose around your shoulders.”

  “Thanks, but you’re the one who did all the work making them into a crown.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Her pretty eyes glistened. “You make a beautiful bride.”

  She was so sweet, so kind to help me get ready much less stay for the ceremony that would take place on the beach where so many memories of her and Linc lingered. “Tell your mom thanks for lending me the dress.”

  “You already did, but I’ll tell her again if you like.”

  I nodded. I loved my wedding gown though it was only a simple strapless white sundress that skimmed my knees. It wasn’t the trappings that made the day special. It was the man who stood beside the ocean waiting for me.

  My parents weren’t contributing to the wedding. They weren’t even talking to me. The summer was almost over, but they were still furious about my decision not to return to Yale. They laid the blame all Dominic. But it was done. All that needed to be said had been said. I had a job now at the surf shop. I had moved in with Dominic, staying in his old bedroom at his dad’s house, saving my salary and his portion of the advance from Zenith so that when he went on tour to promote the Dirt Dog’s second album I could go with him.

  We were saying our vows right on the beach. I had sent out a couple of invitations, store bought and handwritten. Everyone had accepted except Linc and my parents. The lead singer of the Dogs wasn’t ready to see Simone, and apparently my parents weren’t ready to see me, their only daughter on the biggest day of her young life.

  A knock on the camper window had both of us lifting our heads, our eyes and our hearts full of anticipation for whom we hoped it might be. It wasn’t Linc or my parents. It was only Ash.

  “Hey, you two. Everything is set to go. Can you hurry it up? Dom’s about to drive the rest of us nuts.”

  “We’ll be right there,” Simone told him, her voice rough.

  “Fair enough.” Platinum bangs so long they skimmed his sapphire eyes, Ash drummed a pattern on the metal that sounded a little like the wedding march. “It’s good to see you, Mona. You look stunning as usual.” His voice was low, his compliment heartfelt, and they exchanged a long glance that made me understand a little better why my friend had slept with him so quickly after seeing Linc with the groupies. There was definitely a strong connection between them.

  Simone was blinking away emotion when she turned to face me. She pressed the bouquet she had crafted out of blush dahlias into my hand.

  “You shouldn’t have done all of this.”

  “I wanted to. You are my happy beautiful BFF, and it is my honor.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “You have the dress for something borrowed. The flowers for something new. But what for blue…”

  “Maybe I can help,” a familiar voice offered. “My heart is certainly blue without my only daughter.”

  “Daddy!” I jumped out of the seat nearly tripping on my own feet as I exited the van. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.” I threw my arms around his neck. He hugged me so tight my breath left my lungs in a rush. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too, Sunshine.” He took a step back to look at me and I tried my best not to come apart when I saw the tears glistening in his eyes. “You look as pretty as your mother did when I married her.”

  “Thank you.”

  “She’s waiting at the beach with the others. But I wondered if I could have a moment with you while you’re still my little girl.”

  “I’ll always be your little girl, Daddy,” I whispered.

  “That’s sweet, but it’s not true. And I shouldn’t wish that for you. I was wrong to get so angry, to be so prideful, to try to bend you to my will by withholding my affection. I missed two whole months with you that I can never get back.” His brow creased, his expression becoming even more serious. “It’s just that since the day I first held you in my arms I wanted you to be happy. Everything I do, all the long hours working at the grocery store, being so tough on you about studying, it was always because I had that goal in mind. If I had the power to make every single one of your days blissful I would do it, but I can’t. I see now that loving you best means setting you free while making you understand that I will always be there if you should ever need me.” His voice was so deep, his words so sincere and beautiful that my lips trembled. “So there’s only one last thing I need to know. Does he make you happy?”

  I bobbed my head.

  “Good.” He held out his hand. “Then if you will allow me, I would like to have the honor of walking you down to him. I’ve already told him that he has my blessing.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You’re welcome, Sunshine.” He touched my nose, tucked my hand into the bend of his arm and led me down the seashell path to the heart drawn in the sand by my friends. Dominic became my husband there as the sun set, draping the sky in celebratory orange and pink streamers that complimented the bouquet I clasped in my hand.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ramon

  September 2001

  I didn’t know which godforsaken town the band was in tonight because I had gone straight from the tour bus to the motel room where I fucked the first two girls who followed me into it.

  It hadn’t made me feel better.

  In fact, I felt a shit ton worse when I opened the door to kick them out afterward and found a wide-eyed Karen standing right outside in the hall with a forgotten bucket of ice in her hands. She might as well have dumped it on me.

  It seemed like she was everywhere all the damn time.

  On the tour bus wearing one of Patch’s shirts and little else. Watching me stumble on board at dawn just before we pulled out of the venue parking lot and headed for the next stop on the tour.

  At the after-party she turned pale as I rolled up a dollar bill and snorted a couple of bumps off some bitch’s tits.

  And now standing to the side of the stage wearing a look of disapproval. The guitar tech handed me my SG. I didn’t want her pity. It pissed me off. It made me feel guilty, small instead of like a stud. I threw the strap over my shoulder. The rest of the guys were already in their places. I could hear Ash’s laying down the opening drum beat.

  “Ramon,” she called as I attempted to duck ar
ound her. “Wait.”

  “Don’t start, alright. I know I’m late. Patch might get off on your mother act, but I sure as hell don’t.”

  She stepped aside, but her wounded expression stuck in my mind. My performance sucked because of it. At least I knew what fucking city we were in. Linc must have said it about a million times.

  “Thank you, Des Moines. We’re happy to be here, Des Moines. You’ve been a great audience, Des Moines.”

  Bullshit. They practically booed us off the stage, though we deserved it. I wasn’t the only one who had stunk up the place.

  Linc was popping so badly on some kind of amphetamines that he couldn’t stand still. He jerked all over the place completely off key even when he got the lyrics right.

  Ash threw up…during the show. I would have chalked it up to his usual stage fright except that I had seen the bottle of Jack Daniels he had emptied right before the set.

  Patch was the only one who was steady, like a captain at the helm of a floundering ship.

  Catching the towel someone tossed my way as I exited the stage, I unclipped the guitar strap from my shoulder and handed my Gibson back to the tech. “Where’s the party?” I queried the usual suspects milling around amid the chaos backstage.

  Patch answered. “Don’t you think you should get some rest instead?”

  I lifted a brow as I turned to face him. He had his arm around Karen. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips shiny, her dress rumpled. Still, she looked as pretty as she had when she had danced with him at the Deck Bar after they had taken their vows. He had probably kissed her deeply and given the state of her dress, no telling what else. That thought further soured my piss poor mood. During our performances, she made a habit of sitting on the speaker that was hooked up to his bass. She got off on feeling the vibrations roll through her while watching him play, and he got off on knowing she was getting off. It was twisted, but brilliant and it made me envious as fuck. Everything they did fanned the smoldering embers of jealousy. “I see Mother’s been bending your ear,” I spat at him while glaring at her.

  “What?” Patch glanced at Karen and then me. “No.” He shook his head. “This is between you and me. You were late. Again. You barely made it on stage tonight. Same thing as the last show. As your best friend and your brother in the band, I’m telling you to cool it with the booze and drugs.”

  “This is bullshit. Just because you’re all domesticated and shit doesn’t mean the rest of us have to get tucked into our beds at nine.”

  “What’s going on?” Linc asked, his dilated pupils spiraling around our little circle.

  “Morris is getting on our case about expenses.” Patch told him the truth, but it wasn’t truth anyone wanted to hear. “It’s becoming a big problem. You need to step up, be a leader and lay down some rules, or we’re going to end up owing the label a lot of money after it.”

  “Ash can do it.” Linc snagged a chick who was only wearing a bra and thong. She handed him the vodka she cradled to her chest. He twisted it open and drank from it like it was bottled water.

  “I can do what?” Ash stumbled over, he was pale beneath his summer tan.

  “Be the leader in the group. Patch says we need one.” Linc took another long pull from the bottle sticking his hand into the girl’s bra for a feel while he waited for his cousin to reply.

  “Sure. No problem.” A slow grin spread across Ash’s face. “As the new leader of the band, I say let’s go get wasted.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Where’s the guy with the drugs? I need something that’ll give me a buzz and settle my stomach down so I can eat. I’m starving.”

  “Amen. Moses has spoken from the mountaintop. We have our orders.” I clapped Ash on the shoulder and shot Dominic a celebratory look. The look he gave me back didn’t make me feel like celebrating anymore. It made me feel like a loser. Like he felt sorry for me. A lot like how I felt whenever Karen looked at me lately.

  I couldn’t decide whose disapproval stung more.

  * * *

  We boarded a tiny plane to take us to the next stop. The flight was early, the mood somber. There were no bunks to sleep off the previous night’s excesses, and everyone, except Patch and Karen, looked like hell.

  Linc slumped into his seat. His sandy hair looked greasy and stuck up all over the place. His eyes were hidden behind dark shades. Ash sat on the double row behind our lead singer. He didn’t look any better. The way he eyed the barf bag told me that it wouldn’t be long before he used it. Hopefully, we wouldn’t hit any turbulence on takeoff or he might miss the bag entirely.

  I was stuck across the aisle from the sobriety twins. I avoided direct eye contact with them but noticed out of my peripheral vision that Patch took Karen’s hand and threaded their fingers together. I swallowed hard trying to moisten the dry burn inside my throat. They were a snapshot of marital bliss that made the emptiness in my own life more difficult to assuage.

  The flight attendants did their thing, and we took off without any of them calling us out for being inebriated. I felt pretty fortunate because I was pretty sure being shit faced violated the rules of commercial air travel. There was a reason so many record labels flew their headliners around on private jets.

  I leaned my seat back when I was able and closed my eyes. I tried not to remember how much better things had been a little over a year ago, but it was hard not to take note of our rapid decent. With that first album and tour there had been a sense of optimism, a feeling that we were going someplace, that we had goals that were worth achieving. We had a better album this time around, but we were self-destructing in spite of ourselves. The road that led to ruin was a wide one. Someone needed to find an exit ramp fast. For all the grief I had given Patch, he was the natural candidate to take charge. If someone didn’t, I doubted we would make another tour.

  An announcement mid-flight that I didn’t quite catch bumped me out of my restless slumber. I clawed my way toward consciousness, then started to drift back into oblivion until the murmurings around me rose to such a high level that I couldn’t ignore them.

  I cracked open my eyes. “What’s going on?” I asked, turning my head to look at Patch.

  “There’s been a plane crash.”

  Shit. That certainly was disturbing with us up in the air. “Where?” I glanced at Karen. She was pale. Her grip on Patch’s hand was so tight his skin had blanched.

  “New York. It crashed right into The World Trade Center.”

  * * *

  Our destination had been Seattle. Instead, we found ourselves rerouted to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. The winter playground for the rich and famous had one of the tiniest airports I had ever been in. The tarmac ended up packed with grounded planes, the terminal packed with stranded passengers. In shock, we shuffled like zombies gathering around television monitors.

  Tall enough to see over the other passengers, I stood near the back of our group between Ash and Linc. The cousins were pale, their expressions blank. I scanned for Karen. She was near the front, wrapped up in Patch’s arms. His jaw was set. Even from a couple of feet away I could tell she was still crying. I stuffed futile fists into the front pockets of my jeans. Patch turned, his hard gaze meeting mine. Guiding his wife in my direction, he met me halfway. Even Ash and Linc drifted toward each other. Our differences forgotten, we were united in our grief. We remained at those monitors for hours watching the appalling events unfold. The towers fell. The citizens of New York spilled into the streets, disappearing into clouds of soot and debris and reemerging with expressions as devastated as the rubble around them.

  Air traffic came to a standstill for days. Our concert was cancelled. Eventually, Zenith moved us into a three-bedroom condo near the slopes and footed the bill. If we hadn’t been so despondent, we might have enjoyed the view. But no one could find much hope in those early days. Our lives as they had been before, the lives of everyone across the country and around the globe had been changed forever.

  “Ramon,” Patch called, and I ripped my g
aze away from the television coverage to glance at him. He looked as rough as we all did. We were strung out not by drugs, but by the horror of what we seen and heard. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure.” I gestured to the empty spot on the sectional beside me. Linc was in a chair, Ash on the opposite end of the seating group. Both had their elbows on their knees. I don’t think they registered anything beyond the depressing replays and the ticker tape details at the bottom of the screen.

  “Nah, not here. In private,” he clarified. “In your room. Karen is asleep in ours.”

  “Ok.” I stood, wondering what was up. His tone sounded ominous.

  I followed him into my room and shut the door. When I turned around to face him, his expression was more serious than I had ever seen it.

  “I’m enlisting,” he said.

  “You’re what?” My voice was incredulous.

  “I’ve been talking to my dad…about what’s happened. About what I want to do. What I need to do. I’m taking Karen to OB first. Then I’m going straight to boot camp. I’ll be gone six weeks.” He shook his head. “This is bullshit. What the four of us have been doing. We used to be a band of brothers. Now we’re just a bunch of guys going nowhere. I want to be part of something important. I want to make a difference. I want to be a Marine and serve my country like my dad.”

  Fuck.

  My jaw dropped. “What did Karen say when you told her?”

  “I haven’t yet.”

  “Are you crazy? She’s your wife.”

  “She would have tried to talk me out of it.”

  “I would too if I thought it would do any good.” I raked my hair back and gave him a baleful look. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole lately. I don’t know what’s come over me.” But yet I did. Regrets and recriminations crashed into me. “I’ll straighten my shit out. Only don’t make any rash decisions. Take some time to think it over. The tour’s nearly over. If you still feel the same way after it ends then…”